Cleland does not account for the best-in-field fallacy. 42This occurs when problems surface with models, andproponents do not answer the objections, but onlyrespond that their model is better than competinghypotheses. As MacBeth noted, this approach measurestruth by an appeal to the power of explanation, not bylogic or evidence:“It seems that the standards of the evolutionarytheorists are relative or comparative rather thanabsolute. If such a theorist makes a suggestionthat is better than other suggestions, or betterthan nothing, he feels that he has accomplishedsomething even if his suggestion will obviouslynot hold water. He does not believe he mustmeet any objective standards of logic, reason, orprobability.” 43

In falling into this trap, Cleland stated:“The point is most historical hypotheses arenot rejected on the basis of failed predictions butrather because another hypothesis does a better jobof explaining the total body of evidence available.” 20

While a hypothesis may do ‘a better job’ of explaining
data, that is not the measure of truth. 44 Cleland is caught
in a trap of her own devising. If natural history is a subset
of history, with the inherent uncertainty of history, then
tentative models explaining limited data are acceptable. But
if one insists that natural history has scientific certainty, the
standard of proof is much higher. Simply having the best
story is not enough.

Critique 11: Role of belief systems

Natural history has seen a clash of belief systems. Cleland
is on firm ground in her understanding that background
beliefs play a role in historical science. Unfortunately,
she does not grasp her own biases. Naturalism is not
an inherently scientific mindset, as its devolution into
postmodern relativism is demonstrating. Christianity, and
only Christianity, gave rise to science. 45 It did so with a
unique collection of background beliefs that provided a
cultural environment that fostered its purposes, strategies,
and methods. Lyell and his intellectual children enjoyed
the fruits while rejecting the tree. They caught the coattails of Newtonian physics, thinking natural history could
be equally scientific. Cleland seeks the same goal by a
different road. Her ‘multiple hypotheses’ excludes those
of creationists, even when evidence strongly supports their
ideas. Few secular geologists are willing to admit that
uniformitarianism is not able to explain the rock record,
and no secular geologist will face the implications of
geology having been built on that false principle. Secular
geologists and biologists are ill-equipped to address their
worldview and retain large blind spots for that reason. It
is understandable that scientists, given the inculcation of
naturalism in education at every level, would fall prey to
such problems. But philosophers of science are supposed
to address those problems.

Conclusion

While Cleland’s positive case for historical science
is an improvement on Lyell’s, her case falls far short of
demonstrating an epistemic equality between natural
history and experimental science, primarily because she
is asking the wrong question. In conflating ‘science’ with
‘empiricism’, she requires that history become science.
This should be a warning, since this error is at the root of
the Christian redefinition of ‘origins/operation/historical/
supernormal science’.

Cleland makes an interesting case with a consistent
foundation and method. However, it depends on suspicious
assumptions and does not account for the scope of historical
science. Until a better case is made, we cannot agree that

Figure 5. Dr Mortimer J. Adler (1902–2001) was an American philosopher,
educator, and writer. He was involved in the Great Books program, was
an editor of the Encyclopedia Britannica, and helped found the Aspen
Institute. He pursued truth through philosophy, saw a distinction between
the disciplines of science and history, and advocated a cross-disciplinary
approach to questions that spanned those boundaries.